


The Luckiest

by Ravensmores



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Beaches, Canon Compliant, Communication, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, SO MUCH FLUFF, Victor does the dishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-11 21:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15980945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravensmores/pseuds/Ravensmores
Summary: His thoughts are interrupted by Victor shifting in his lap again, pulling the blanket further under his chin and letting out the softest snore. Yuuri can’t help but chuckle at how adorable is in his sleep, all beautifully mussed and sweet.Looking back up to the TV, he continues gently petting through the other man’s hair while quietly making his resolution.“Someday I’ll ask you properly.”How two dorks get engaged. Again.





	The Luckiest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chiharu_Hikari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiharu_Hikari/gifts).



> Did I listen to the Ben Folds song of the same name on repeat while writing most of this? You tell me ;)
> 
> My prompts were: Walking on the beach at sunset/ cuddling on the couch/ karaoke.
> 
> They are all in there I swear :P

_I don't get many things right the first time,_

_In fact, I am told that a lot_

_Now I know all the wrong turns the stumbles,_

_And falls brought me here_

 

Winters in St. Petersburg really are something to behold.

Yuuri knows the cold like an old friend at this point: the whispered chill of a snowy night, the bite of ice against his hands or his side, the kiss of the first few flakes of the season, but nothing like this.

Nothing like a Russian January.

While the cry of the seagulls really did remind him of Hasetsu, he’s not sure he could have prepared himself for the sheer wall of chill that hit him like an iced brick when he got off the plane a month ago. There was something beautiful about the lacey white spider web of bare tree branches and the glassy crunch of the frosted sand beneath his feet as he ran by the river banks, but he was still fairly certain that he was going to be missing a few toes by the time spring decided to melt it all away.

Whenever they walk together, Yuuri can’t help but marvel at how well Victor himself fits so well into this scene, every bit a prince of ice even when he isn’t skating. With hair like frozen starlight and eyes deeper than a winter’s ocean, it sometimes reminds him of how he used to see him behind the flicker of his old television screen: some chilling, ethereal figure, born to be just as intense and untouchably beautiful on the ice.

Though those preconceptions melted away almost the instant he crashed so very happy and naked into his life.

Whether it was the heat of coffee- sweet kisses in the morning, the contrast of the firm grip of his hand around his after a failed landing, or the perfumed warmth around his face whenever Yuuri steals his scarves, he knows that’s exactly what Victor is:

Warm.

Definitely proven more than ever by Makkachin’s current winter attire as they walk down the sanded banks by the river, pink and greyed by the setting sun.

“Are you sure the boots are necessary?” Yuuri gestures to the frankly adorable little knitted booties Makkachin is currently sporting as she bounces happily down the shoreline.

“Absolutely!” Victor smiles down, the fondest sparkle in his eyes as he watches her run. “She’s fluffy but her feet still get cold.”

“Plus it just  _happens_  to make a good Instagram picture,” Yuuri murmurs as he brings his gloved hands to his face, puffing through the wool to try and bring some feeling back.

 Victor chuckles at the comment, bringing out his phone to take probably the fiftieth shot of the day.  “If my fans want more Makkachin content, then I’m going to deliver.”

Yuuri shoves his hands in his coat pocket, burying his face further into the fuzz of Victor’s scarf that he  _definitely_  didn’t take on purpose... for the fourth day in a row. “To be honest I’m surprised there’s no matching hat.”

“It’s arriving tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

They walk in a comfortable silence for a while, Yuuri catching the tell-tale red tinge around Victor’s ears and mentally cursing himself for not bringing another hat. The man might swear the cold doesn’t bother him, but the fact that Yuuri’s woken up multiple times with Victor’s hands shoved in his armpits tells a different story.

As Yuuri goes to bring his hands to his mouth again, Victor reaches out to grab it softly, the warmth of his own grip seeping through the wool.

“Better?” he asks as he squeezes gently, eyes softer than the few evening clouds starting to cast shadows across the beach.

Yuuri knows he can’t stop the pinkened blush blooming across his nose at the sweet gesture. “Better.”

As they walk step for step, Yuuri wonders if he was ever going to be able to stop the little warmed flip his stomach did at even such trivial shows of affection. 

Yes, it was nineteen degrees below freezing but right now he wasn’t sure if his heart could be any cosier.

Just as he’s about to suggest heading back for dinner, Victor rips his hand away, animatedly pointing ahead. “Yuuri look!” He gestures to the couple by the bridge in front of them, the man on one knee, something small in his hands. Judging by the almost comically loud squeal let out by his partner before she launches herself at him, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

“Oh wow. Hell of an evening for a proposal,” Yuuri murmurs as he tightens his scarf against another iced breath of the breeze. “Do you think he planned it?”

Victor doesn’t respond. Looking up, Yuuri sees how enraptured he is by the scene unfolding before them, his gleeful expression barely hidden behind the leather of his gloves.

“Victor?”

“Huh?” He blinks himself back to reality, his cheeks a little pinker. “Oh sorry. Just caught up in the moment.”

“It’s not even your moment.”

“Yes but-” he waves more enthusiastically to the man now swinging his fiancée around him in arms. “Look how happy they are! It’s adorable.”

Yuuri doesn’t hide his own small smile at that. Even from where they’re standing, Yuuri can see the joy blooming clear as day across both their faces as the man reaches over to slip the ring on her finger. Neither seem the slightest bit bothered by the chill of the changing weather around them.

As they start walking again, Yuuri can’t stop a little teasing thought swirling around his mind as he rubs his own ring through the soft material of his gloves.

_It’s not exactly Barcelona._

He’s not normally one to gloat about his own achievements, but that particular moment is still something he’s  _so_  very proud of. He was mostly surprised how every aspect had managed to fall so perfectly into place, even if he hadn’t exactly planned it.

Golden lighting, a choir, the personally engraved rings, the words-

_The words_

Yuuri stops walking for a minute.

He’d put the ring on, they’d talked, they’d hugged… they’d done  _so_  more than that when they’d got back to the hotel, but for the first time in weeks a sharp realisation hits him hard.

He hadn’t actually asked at any point.

He presses his fingers to his ring a little more firmly as a thousand pointed questions about his relationship suddenly buzz loudly in his mind.

They were engaged right? They have the rings, they live together, train together, sleep together… but they hadn’t even mentioned getting married since that day. He vividly remembers the explosion of articles online speculating about the possibility of their upcoming nuptials the day after the GPF short programme and both of them laughing about the sensation it was causing, but they never actually addressed it.

He rubs the ring raw against his finger, his thoughts running away from him faster with each nervous twist.

_So he’d never actually asked and they don’t ever talk about it. So that basically means that-_

“Yuuri?”

“Huh?” He stops fiddling with his hand, Victor walking back to where he’d paused dead in his tracks.

“Are you okay?” A tiny crease of concern crinkles around his eyes as he catches up. “You just stopped.”

“No I’m fine, it’s just-” He looks down to Victor’s right hand, acutely aware of the matching ring under his own glove. “It’s nice isn’t it?” He gestures to the couple in front of them, now holding hands and sauntering slowly back towards the city.

“Yeah.” His expression melts into something softer as he holds out his hand for Yuuri again. “I do like public proposals.”

“Really?”

“Well of course I do.” He winks as he whistles for Makkachin and slowly starts walking again, “Especially when it’s cold.”

Yuuri’s brain almost short circuits as another jolt of confusion sparks through his mind.

Was he talking about them? Was it a joke?

As they walk back, one question refuses to quieten no matter how much he tries to ignore it.

_Does Victor think about it too?_

* * *

 

The thought of whether he’d actually asked Victor to marry him or not stays stuck at the back of his mind for the rest of the evening.

Stretching in the bedroom, scraping his fingernails through his hair in the shower, absentmindedly nodding while Victor goes through the recording of his latest free skate practice- all he can think about is whether or not the two of them are actually engaged or not.

He almost burns himself making dinner, the pan spitting violently as he obliviously pours too much oil, his mind far too preoccupied with how he was even supposed to bring it up.

Moving the pan to a cooler part of the stove and silencing the sudden shriek of the fire alarm, he takes a second to think through this properly.

Deep down he knows it’s a silly thing to worry about and he just needs to talk to Victor about it, but he just isn’t sure exactly what he’d even say. “ _Hey Victor, quick question. Do you really want to get married or were you just joking when you said we were engaged? I mean that would make way more sense since there’s no way someone like you would actually-”_

He jabs a knife into the meat in front of him a little harder than he needs to, silencing that particular train of thought.

He’s  _not_  going down that rabbit hole again.

He knows Victor loves him, knows that he takes every opportunity to tell him as such and not just with his words. Whether it’s carrying him to bed after he’s passed out on the couch, always asking if he can touch him as he shakes and cries when his anxiety weighs heavy, or talking to him in his heavily accented Japanese as often as he can because he knows his grasp on English starts to fail when he gets tired, he’s constantly doing such little things to try and make this place feel as much like a home as he can.

As he starts plating up, Victor appears from the around the corner, throwing his arms around his shoulders and murmuring something about wanting  _dessert_  first that makes Yuuri swat him with the spatula and giggle.

_And he loves him just as much in return._

After dinner Yuuri sits down on the couch and flips through the news channels, Victor adamant about doing the dishes because Yuuri cooked. Eventually he finds a random movie and sticks it on as background noise while he scrolls through his phone, smiling at the most recent post of Phichit throwing a birthday party for his hamsters. After another ten minutes of mindless browsing he feels a dip on the cushion next to him and then a warmth on his lap as Victor sprawls himself out on the couch, resting his head against Yuuri’s thighs.

“Oh I love this one,” he murmurs as Yuuri brings a hand down to lightly run his fingers across the crown of his head, smiling as he nuzzles further against him.

Sometimes he forgets just how clingy he is.

As the film continues, he feels Victor start to drift against him, rolling his face to a more comfortable position on his lap, his lips brushing soft and warm past his navel.

Running his hands through the softest hairs at the nape of his neck, Yuuri marvels at how it wasn’t even a year ago when this man was just a glittering concept to him. Some shining smile on a poster, not a real tangible presence that he’d actually have the privilege of talking to, let alone loving.

Reaching behind himself awkwardly, Yuuri grabs the blanket hanging over the back of the couch and lays it over the top of him, his heart melting a little more at the small smile that tugs at Victor’s lips as he does so.

_Marry me_

He feels the words sitting on the tip of his tongue.

For a brief second, Yuuri considers waking him up to ask, wondering what exactly his reaction would be. He chuckles and mutes the television, thinking about the awkwardness of shuffling from underneath him just to get down on one knee.

As he leans back against the couch cushions a little more, he can’t help but let his mind wander a little, imagining the expression on Victor’s face as he asks, pulling off his ring just to put it back on.

Would he smile? Laugh? Spin him round in his arms like the couple earlier?

The more he thinks about it, the less of a terrible idea it sounds.

Asking on the beach would obviously be out of the question after today. If he did it, he was going to be original. Perhaps right here? Over dinner? Or maybe-

His thoughts are interrupted by Victor shifting in his lap again, pulling the blanket further under his chin and letting out the softest snore. Yuuri can’t help but chuckle at how adorable is in his sleep, all beautifully mussed and sweet.

Looking back up to the TV, he continues gently petting through the other man’s hair while quietly making his resolution.

_“Someday I’ll ask you properly.”_

“Ask me what?”

He flinches slightly at the muffled words coming from against the blanket. Looking down again, he catches the small shine of Victor’s eyes, half open but still clear in the low light.

_Oh no._

“Victor? Oh sorry I thought you were asleep,” he whispers, shifting as the other man slowly rises from his spot across Yuuri’s lap.

“I was trying but you were thinking so  _loudly_ ,” he murmurs as he sits up and stretches. “And you did say the last bit out loud.”

“Uh- Yeah.” He can feel the heat visibly rising in his cheeks at the realisation.

“So?” He slouches against the back of the couch, he eyes bright with sleepy curiosity. “Ask me what?”

“I-” he looks back at the ring on his finger, shining brightly even against the muted flicker of the television screen. “It’s not important. We should go to bed.”

Victor raises an eyebrow at the answer but doesn’t press it, shrugging and standing up. “Okay then.”

As they make their way into the bedroom, Yuuri feels the weight of his decision slowly start to melt away while he strips and slides between the sheets. Burying himself into the plush mattress, he turns over to let Victor spoon him more comfortably from behind, the safety of his arms dissolving the loud thoughts of the evening.

He can leave proposal planning for the morning.

As he slowly starts to drift, he suddenly feels the soft tickle of Victor’s lips against his ear. “Is it about the foot thing?”

Yuuri’s not sure he’s ever shot up faster in his life. “What??”

Victor rolls over, his smile sleepy but devilish. “I know that we’ve both mentioned it a couple of times in the heat of the moment, but if you really want to ask then-”

“Oh my God Victor it’s not about that!”  _Though that is definitely a discussion for another time._

Victor props himself up on his arm, reaching over to illuminate the lamp closest to him. “Yuuri, something’s been bothering you all evening.”

Yuuri sinks down a little into the pillows behind him. “Is it that obvious?”

Victor stretches over and softly pokes right between Yuuri’s eyes. “There’s been a crease right here for the past five hours. That’s only there when you’re thinking really  _really_  hard about something.”

Yuuri sighs. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is.” Victor sits up and shuffles a little closer to him. “If it’s bothering you this much I want to help.” He gently puts a hand on his shoulder, his voice a soothing whisper. “Please?”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it, thinking of the right thing to say. After a minute he realises he’s been spending hours trying to find the right thing to say and frankly he’s sick of miscommunication causing him problems.

He meets Victor’s gaze properly and finds his voice.

“Okay well I was just thinking that after Barcelona and everything that happened I wasn’t really sure if- I mean it’d be nice if I-” He takes a breath, trying to catch his rapidly dissipating courage. “I’d just… _reallyliketoaskyoutomarryme.”_  The last few words come out in a garbled rush before he buries his face in the pillow in front of him.

A few long seconds pass, before he feels Victor gently lowering the pillow, the softest smile on his face. “Uh- haven’t you already done that?

Yuuri lets out a small laugh. “No, I mean properly ask you.”

 _Okay at least he already thought they were engaged_.

Victor cocks his head, his eyes creasing slightly in confusion. “What was wrong with when you asked last time?”

“Well that’s just it- I didn’t actually ask.” He looks down, nervously picking at the edge of the duvet.  “I just kinda said that the rings were a lucky charm and then later you said some stuff about being engaged and everyone just kind of went with it... including me.”

“Oh.” Victor shifts even closer, softly taking Yuuri’s hand in his own and examining the ring in the warmed light of the lamp. “Yuuri, when you bought these, you did realise what it looked like right? I mean- did you want to ask then?”

He thinks back to that night. Frankly there were so many emotions erratically bouncing around his head at that point, seeing those rings just ended up putting a plan in motion that he barely knew he was forming.

“It was an idea,” he murmurs eventually. “A real kind of spur of the moment thing because I just wanted to show you how much you meant to me as more than just a coach but-” he bites his lip, slowly looking up to meet his gaze, “Before I said anything I realised it would be kind of stupid to ask you for that kind of commitment.”

Victor flicks his eyes down to look at his own ring, a similar crease to Yuuri’s forming between his eyes. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

The statement hangs in the air for a long moment.

He knows how easily he can hurt Victor when it comes to affairs of the heart, but he isn’t going to let now be one of them.

He reaches out to gently take Victor’s face between his palms, lifting his head so he can meet his eyes again. “I know that now,” he whispers, gently brushing a few wayward strands of silver away from his face before lightly tracing the shape of his ear with his thumb. “That’s why I want to do it properly. I want to actually ask if you will.”

Victor gives him another small smile and twists to kiss the palm of his hand, his lips moving softly against the delicate skin. “Okay go on then.”

“Wait now?” Yuuri drops his hands in shock at how easily the words came from him.

“Yes now! Why wait?” Victor sits back, smiling expectantly.

“No! I mean- Oh my God Victor,” he’s laughing now, bringing his hands to his face to stifle his grin. “I want to make it special.”

Another smile breaks across Victor’s face as he pulls Yuuri’s hands away to gently entwine their fingers, deliberately brushing against the warmed gold of Yuuri’s own ring. “I can’t think of anything more special than the man I love asking me to spend the rest of my life with him.” He lifts his hand to softly kiss it again. “No matter how it happens.”

A warmth stronger than the finest whisky starts unfurling in his stomach at Victor’s tender expression. “Really?”

“Of course, but I’ll let you decide when that is,” he whispers, the heat of his words fanning across Yuuri’s face as he tilts his head and starts to close the final distance between them. “But just so you know, I don’t think you have to worry about me saying no.”

He feels the smile on Victor’s mouth as they kiss softly, the same grin staying painted on Yuuri’s own lips as they break apart. “Well that’s a relief”

“I mean you’ve already been living here for a while. I’ve already gotten over the fact that you don’t rinse the shower after you’re done.”

“Hey!” Yuuri throws the nearest pillow at him in mock offence. “I’m the one who’s constantly unblocking the drain because it’s full of your hair.”

Victor dramatically flops back onto the mattress, throwing his arm across his eyes. “Don’t remind me!”

Yuuri laughs again before rolling over so he’s balancing on his elbows above him, reaching down to pull his arm away. “You know I’d still want to marry you even if you woke up with hair like Yakov right?” He gently pokes at his forehead as he presses the tiniest kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Victor wraps his arms around his neck, pulling Yuuri on top of him properly, the sneaky glint in his eye unmistakable. “Does that mean you’re asking?”

Yuuri pokes him a little harder, giggling at the way his nose scrunches at the gesture. “Not yet.”

“Mean,” Victor murmurs as he slips a hand under the back of Yuuri’s shirt, leaning up to chase his lips properly.

Eventually Yuuri rolls off, tucking himself more comfortably against his side as Victor reaches over to turn off the lamp, enveloping the room in soft darkness.

As he starts to feel himself drift again, another idea settles in his mind and he just can’t help himself.

“Victor?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can I ask you something”

“Of course you can.”

He stretches over, his lips pressing a feather’s kiss to Victor’s ear. “How badly do you want to try the foot thing?”

* * *

 

He spends way too long thinking about it.

After their late-night discussion he’s now more frustrated than ever at the fact that there’s somehow both less and more pressure to find the right way to ask.

The worry about what Victor would say in return is gone, but Yuuri still wants it to be special, to be a surprise. He just wished that he couldn’t so prominently feel the heightened burn of Victor’s gaze every time he bends down in front of him or goes to ask him something.

Then again, every time he thinks he has the right moment, something stupid seems to get in the way anyway.

Dinner plans at their favourite restaurant gets changed to takeout at the rink when Yurio begrudgingly calls them asking for help, a late night walk under the stars is abruptly cancelled when they find out that Makkachin has swallowed her favourite squeak toy, even when they’re in bed together, the stress and extra work of trying to work on his own skating while Victor prepares for his comeback properly has them both too tired to properly undress half the time, let alone talk about their relationship.

Eventually Yuuri decides that’s it’s really not a priority right now. They love each other and life has to come first at the moment. They’ll find the right time eventually.

Weeks pass, then months.

As spring slowly starts to melt the hardened edges of winter, Yuuri suddenly finds himself wanting to blurt it out at the stupidest moments, like it’s constantly dancing on the edge of his tongue.

After watching Victor celebrate hitting the high note of some God awful Russian pop song when Mila had somehow convinced the whole rink to go to karaoke, he almost shouts it across the table when he staggers back, tipsy and high from his performance.

_Marry me_

When he’s murmuring softly to Makkachin’s sleeping face about how much he loves her when he thinks Yuuri isn’t looking, he wants to jump on the sofa next to him and kiss it into his skin.

_Marry me._

Each time he feels the sweet drag of Victor’s skin against his own in their bed, his senses are drowning in thick hot pleasure but the words still ring clear as day in his mind with each movement.

_Marry me. Marry me. Marry me._

Watching Victor run through his short programme for the third time that day at the rink, the idea finally forms in his head. Smiling, he starts making notes on his phone.

“What are you so happy about?” Victor gasps out as he makes his way over to him once he’s finished, all sweaty and gorgeous

Yuuri pockets his phone, reaching down to pass him a towel, the broad grin on his face not faltering. “Nothing, I just had a really good idea.

* * *

 

He has a plan.

He’s had the rings cleaned, his words clear and rehearsed in his head, the location sorted.

They’d made plans to visit Yuuri’s family at the end of the season and it was where he planned to strike. He wants Victor to be a part of his family, so he wants to do it while they’re all there. Not in front of them obviously, but once they’d both confirmed that this is what they wanted, he wants everyone there to celebrate it.

On the beach at Hasetsu they’d first opened up to each other, so now he was going to open up to him. He has it all mapped out in his head: take him there, say his piece, be happy forever. 

Simple.

Except things don’t ever really go to plan, especially when it comes to Yuuri’s life. What he doesn’t expect for all his ideas to get thrown out the window quite so stupendously.

Especially by something as stupid as an argument.

Yuuri barely remembers what started it, just that by the time that he’s shouting at Victor _to just fucking listen for once_ as his favourite mug shatters into angry shards by his feet, it isn’t something they could just ignore and scrub away with a scalding shower.

They go for the low blows, Yuuri giving as good as he gets, the anger flaring and spitting behind his eyes like the untamed crackles of a wild fire. He knows exactly what to say to hurt him, the words pointed and biting on his tongue and Victor knows how to fight in turn, keeping his voice steady and using that disappointed-coach’s tone he’s crafted so well over the past year just because he knows that Yuuri _hates_ it.

Yuuri can feel their joint frustrations ricocheting off the walls as his voice rips through several decibels until he finally breaks, the door to the apartment is slamming closed behind him before Victor has the chance to see his tears.

It takes him a while to cool down after that.

He isn’t even really sure where he’s going as he blindly wanders around the darkened streets away from the apartment, so much of the city that isn’t around the rink still a maze of concrete and foreign lettering to him. He starts to regret his decision as the chills of late March bleed through his jacket, his empty pockets only adding fuel to his frustrations.

Heading to a bar is out of the question then.

Eventually the flames of the argument start to die down in his mind, slowly replaced with a cold realisation at the idiocy of what he’d just done. He has no wallet, no phone, nowhere to go at this hour and he’d just walked out on the person he cares about most in the world.

He feels himself stop, the pain throbbing in his toes and the sting of the night-time winds nothing compared to the pointed memories of everything he’d screamed at Victor... and what he’d said in return.

_“Shit.”_

His breaths stutter out short bursts of chilled fog as he sits down on the nearest bench, another round of angry sobs threatening to scrape free from his throat as the taste of old insults lie bitter and heavy in his mouth.

He’d fucked it up. Everything. Said the worst possible things he could think of to Victor for the sole purpose of hurting him. After, he’d _promised_ himself he was going to start communicating better.

He digs his nails into his palms, the tears starting to ooze out slowly behind his glasses again, everything around him bleeding together into a muted frosty blur of streetlamps and passing cars.

He just wants to go home.

_Home._

That’s what that apartment was, what Victor was, but after everything they’d said to each other, everything they’d done in such a stupidly short space of time, would Victor even let him call him that anymore? Or was he now on a red-eye flight back to Japan?

He rubs at the lingering frustrations behind his eyes, before drawing his jacket further around him and standing up, one thought pushing through the thick waves of frustrated sadness as he starts retracing his steps.

_Please let me make this right._

The door is unlocked when he eventually finds his way back, the entryway dark.

Nervously looking down the shadowed hall, it looks like Victor has gone to bed. He thinks about waking him up to apologise, but decides against it. He doesn’t even begin to know what to say and the fresh start of the early morning might help mute some of the pain.

Or at least lessen the chance of him being kicked out.

His stomach twists with guilt as he quietly pads through the space, the sounds of their fight still humming angrily at him from the walls.

Maybe he should just sleep on the couch tonight.

As he walks into the kitchen to distract himself with tea, he notices the pile of freshly washed pans by the sink. He brushes the lingering warmth of the steel, definitely sure they weren’t there earlier, remembering that he made a point to bring it up while he was angrily airing his grievances.

_God he was an asshole._

Going to put them back in the cupboards, his brow furrows in confusion at the tea cosy left on the side, a torn piece of notebook paper carefully folded next to it. Lifting the cover, his heart almost breaks at the sight of the bowl underneath.

The smell is unmistakable.

He knows that Victor, for all his talents, just cannot make katsudon, yet the heated bowl of rice, pork and egg in front of him is a pretty close approximation.

He trembles slightly as he unfolds the note next to the meal, the words written carefully in Victor’s looping script.

_Please don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach_

Yuuri isn’t sure if he has any more tears left to shed tonight, but the tenderness of such a simple gesture has a fresh wave threatening to spill over.

Taking a clean pair of chopsticks from the drawer in front of him, he sits crossed legs on one of the bar stools as he eats, wondering what the hell he did in a past life that let him have someone like Victor now.

He’d put him up on this glittering pedestal for so long, in such awe of him during those first few months of coaching that he was perpetually terrified. He vividly remembers the constant fear that Victor would suddenly realise that Yuuri was just a no-name skater with an inferiority complex the size of an Olympic rink and get on the next plane back to Russia constantly hanging cold and heavy over his head. Even when he eventually realised that Victor was definitely with him for the long run, it’s hard not to let the ghost of that worry poison his mind from time to time. Especially when they fight.

On a full stomach, the rational side of his brain finally starts to kick back in.

Yes, Victor was still that beautiful skater that he admired for so long, but he was also a person. An arrogant, flighty, surprisingly clingy person who’d made it abundantly clear over the past year that he needed Yuuri just as much as Yuuri needed him.

And Yuuri wasn’t about to let go.

As he washes up the empty and bowl and pockets the note, Yuuri is fairly certain that of everything Victor has done for him, this has touched him the most. Just the amount of effort it must have taken even after Yuuri stormed out on such nasty words has a familiar love blooming warm and sure in his heart.

He has to tell him.

As he walks quietly towards the bedroom, he catches the mess of blankets piled on the couch, Makkachin’s head resting next to them.

It takes him a second to register the person underneath.

Taking a breath, Yuuri slowly pads over and sits down carefully next to Victor’s feet. He can’t help his small smile as he surveys the sleeping man next to him, the messy spill of silver hair fanned against a cushion, his mouth hanging open.  Before Yuuri can wake him to start his rambling apology, he sees him shift under the comforter, the shine of his eyes opening wide when he notices him.

“Hey,” he murmurs as he sits up, his frame a little more rigid than usual.

“Hi.” Yuuri slowly starts to close some of the distance between them, acutely aware of the tension still hanging thick in the air, the worry that they’ll just pick up right where they left off clearly radiating from both of them.

Victor doesn’t stop him as he sidles in close, but flinches a little as the lingering cold still clinging to his jacket brushes his bare arm. “You’re freezing.”

“Yeah, it’s still pretty cold at night.” Yuuri shrugs it off and tucks the edge of the blanket over his knees.

“It takes a while for spring to kick in around here.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Yuuri looks down at his hands gripping nervously onto the edge of the blanket, a thousand different words dancing on the edge of his tongue, but none tasting quite right in this quiet moment. He wonders if they should just go to sleep, hoping the sting of their argument will have subsided by the morning.

When he catches Victor nervously picking at the edge of the blanket as well, he knows they have to sort this now.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually murmurs, raising his eyes to meet Victor’s. He knows it isn’t enough but at least it’s somewhere to start.

“Yeah, me too.”

“No, half the things I said weren’t even about…” He trails off, shame burning painfully in the back of his throat.  “I just- I was just so angry and I knew those things would hurt you.”

Victor lets out a small, defeated laugh as he looks down at his own hands. “I said some pretty terrible things too you know.”

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t.” He lets out a long sigh, running his hand down his face and sinking back against the couch a little more. “Neither of us did”

There’s another long second of silence before Yuuri is able to catch Victor’s gaze again, the softness of those winter eyes still clear as the moon in the dark. He can’t help but melt a little at the slight sadness crinkling around them.

 _“Please forgive me.”_ Yuuri’s voice is barely audible even in the stillness of the room, the fact that he’d hurt him still burning painfully behind his eyes.

Victor smiles gently, shifting closer and slowly linking their hands on top of the comforter. “Only if you forgive me first.”

Yuuri laughs softly, moving into a more comfortable position next to him and drawing the mess of blankets around them both. “Okay,” he murmurs, his body finally relaxing as Victor drapes his long arms around him, resting his head against the slope of his shoulder.

As they drift in their little nest, Yuuri feels a piece of rice dislodge from his back teeth and suddenly remembers why he went looking for Victor in the first place.

He twists to kiss the top of his head, moving his lips against the soft strands of hair. “You made katsudon.”

He feels the vibration of Victor’s chuckle as he replies. “Well as close as I could with what we had in the fridge. I know it’s not as good as-”

Yuuri cuts him off with a gentle finger against his mouth. “It was perfect. Thank you.”

Victor lifts his head, his expression open and soft as he meets Yuuri’s eyes. “You left without your wallet and I didn’t want you to go to bed hungry because of some stupid fight.”

Yuuri feels it again. A little piece of their love sending warm shivers through the rest of his body as a familiar question blooms on the tip of his tongue.

_Romantic walk on the beach be damned, he knows this is the right time._

“Victor?”

“Hmm?”

Yuuri twists so they’re properly facing each other, reaching out to clumsily take Victor’s right hand in both of his own. “Marry me?”

Victor’s eyebrows shoot up at the words, his mouth dropping open a little.

Yuuri tries to stifle his giggle, wishing he had his camera. It’s an adorable picture even in the dark.

Victor blinks a few times, pulling himself back to the moment. “You’re asking me now?”

“Yes.” Yuuri squeezes his hands a little tighter as he continues, the words stuck in his mouth for months now finally able to spill freely. “I had this whole plan, but honestly right now- I realise there isn’t really going to be a ‘perfect’ moment because there’s already been so many times I’ve had to catch my breath because I realised that I- I couldn’t think about a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He can feel his heart aching as he speaks, the words possibly the rawest and most honest he’s ever spoken.  

“So-” He takes another breath, lifting Victor’s ring to his mouth to kiss it gently before enunciating each word clearly. “Will you marry me?”

Victor stares at their joined hands for a brief second before a smile brighter than a thousand spotlights bursts across his face. He reaches over to untangle their fingers, lowering his head to kiss Yuuri’s own ring, his breath warm and sweet. “Of course I will.”

The words had barely left the other man’s mouth before Yuuri is launching himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck and mouthing a dozen messy kisses across his face. After their conversation so many weeks ago, Yuuri knew he wasn’t going to say no, but after hearing Victor answer him as if it was the easiest request in the world, he can’t stop himself mouthing all his joy firmly against the other man’s skin.

“I love you Victor Nikiforov,” he eventually gasps between messy kisses, a happiness brighter than anything he’s ever felt burning through his veins, “so so much.”

Victor laughs against his mouth as he loses his balance and falls backwards, several cushions dropping to the floor as he tries to stop them both rolling onto the hardwood. “And I love you Katsuki Yuuri,” he sighs as he lifts his head up to kiss him properly. “Always.”

As they lie back more comfortably against the remaining couch cushions, Yuuri resting his head against Victor’s chest while he gently strokes his fingers through the unruly strands of his hair, he wonders if it there was another person on the planet who could possibly be as content as he is right now.

Listening to the steady beat of Victor’s heart against his ear, he knows more than ever that he’s ready for their little piece of forever to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> I had such a blast making my gift for this exchange! Massive kudos to everyone involved especially the mods. 
> 
> Can’t wait for the next one!
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://ravensmores.tumblr.com/) \- @ravensmores


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